Kaufman: Post-Olympic blues are real. Just ask these Miami Olympians who competed in Paris | Opinion

It’s been less than a month since the curtain fell on the Paris Olympics, since Tom Cruise rappelled from the stadium roof at the Closing Ceremony, picked up gymnastics star Simone Biles’ five-ring flag, rode off on a motorcycle and, by movie magic, ended up skydiving over the Hollywood sign, signaling the passing of the torch to the next host city, Los Angeles.

As beautiful and magnificent as they were, the 2024 Olympics evaporated into a memory the moment the flame was extinguished.

American sports fans turned their attention to the NFL and college football, while more than 11,000 Olympic athletes from 200 countries returned to their daily lives, most of them in relative anonymity and many of them battling post-Olympic depression, a little-discussed condition faced by Olympic athletes every four years.

For some, sadness turns into depression.

Having covered 14 Olympic Games, it’s a recurring theme that was on my mind Wednesday morning as I watched six local Olympians receive a key to the county from Mayor Daniella Levine Cava and other excited dignitaries at a ceremony in the Miami-Dade County Commissioners Chambers.

One by one, the athletes were introduced, handed a shiny key in a black felt box and then posed for group photos: silver medalist artistic swimmer Daniella Ramirez, judoka Angelica Delgado, sailor Sarah Newberry Moore, triple jumper Russell Robinson, gold medalist sprinter Twanisha “Tee Tee” Terry and Heat star Bam Adebayo, who won a gold medal with Team USA.

Needless to say, Adebayo was the one who generated the most buzz. He’s the tallest and most recognizable of the group and one of the lucky Olympians who had plenty to offer back home after leaving Paris. The three-time All-Star signed a $166 million contract extension in July and the next NBA season is just around the corner.

And what about the others? What about Delgado, a three-time Olympian, 33, the daughter of a Cuban immigrant, who has dedicated her life to judo and whose only sponsors are the brand of her uniform (Mizuno) and the New York Athletic Club? And what about Ramirez, who has a gold medal and a gold key, but no major sponsorship offers?

“After you do well, people expect it to be like a big celebration for months and months, and you’re super happy — and of course, it is, but it’s also a huge feeling of emptiness because your goal and purpose in life that you put so much into is now gone,” said Ramirez, a 22-year-old Miami native with Venezuelan roots who attended UCLA.

“It can feel like post-Olympic depression because there is such a great feeling of euphoria when you come home and there are quiet moments where you have to sit alone with yourself and say, ‘Okay, this stage of my life is over. It’s time to start a new chapter. ’”

Anticipating those feelings, Ramirez spent two weeks relaxing with friends on a secluded farm in Denmark immediately after the Olympics. They meditated, did yoga and got in touch with nature.

“I reconnected with myself and tried to figure out what I wanted to do because for a long time all I did was swim,” she said.

Delgado could understand it.

“People don’t really understand that you work your whole life. I started judo when I was 9 and I’m 33 now, and this was my last Olympics, so it’s a lifetime of dedication and work that goes by in an instant and you’re left thinking, ‘Now what?’” said Delgado, a Tamiami native and graduate of Ferguson High and FIU.

After failing to make the 2012 Olympic team, Delgado was feeling depressed and began working with Miami sports psychologist Dr. Gilberto Gonzalez of DSI Sports Lab. She says he has been instrumental in helping her overcome post-Olympic depression.

Watching Wednesday’s ceremony with a wealth of wisdom in her eyes was Carmen Jackson, Northwestern High’s legendary track coach, who has mentored students at the school for 39 years and has coached five Olympians, including Terry, who won gold in the 400-meter relay.

“Once you take away all the frills with the Olympics, we do a very poor job in this country of elevating our athletes after all they’ve done, years of sacrifice, hard work and commitment representing this country and our communities,” Jackson said. “In other countries, they elevate Olympians, give them resources to keep competing, help them get jobs. We don’t do that here.”

“We don’t do anything good for our Olympic athletes. We just parade them, yippee-yi-yay, give them a piece of paper praising them and then forget about them. No, we need to uplift those individuals, and they can help other young people. Kids can say, ‘Oh, I can get support if I do what I’m supposed to do. ’ We need to do things better after the Olympics, from top government officials to our local politicians.”

I first became aware of post-Olympic depression in 1996, during a painfully honest press conference given by Mark Lenzi, the 1992 Olympic gold medalist in springboard diving. Lenzi described how he struggled mentally and emotionally for more than a year after standing on the medal podium in Barcelona.

“I thought I was God’s gift to the world,” Lenzi said. “It’s so easy to fall into that trap. I went from being a kid in a small town in Virginia to riding in a limo to watch The Tonight Show. You train so hard for so long and you hope that that gold medal is going to change your life forever. But it doesn’t. Sometimes it makes your life worse. There comes a day when nobody cares who you are, your gold medal is in a sock drawer, and I wasn’t prepared.”

At one point, he even considered selling his medal to pay for flight school, before recovering and taking part in the 1996 Olympics, where he won a bronze medal. Lenzi struggled with depression for much of the rest of his life. He died in 2012 at the age of 43.

But not all Olympic athletes feel emptiness after the Closing Ceremony.

Newberry Moore, the Olympic sailor who learned the sport in Biscayne Bay, has a 3-year-old son. She had to spend a lot of time away from him and her husband in the months leading up to the Games and then in France. So for her, the end of the Olympics meant more time for family.

“I felt empty during the competition, a part of me didn’t feel fulfilled as a mother knowing my son was asking, ‘Where’s Mommy tonight?’ ‘Why isn’t she staying with us?’” she said. “So, after the Olympics, I felt bad, but in a different way. For me, it was filling a void. I was able to take my son to his first week of preschool and that was great.”

As Delgado made her way toward the lobby of the county government building, she walked past a group of women being photographed by one of the county’s official photographers. Delgado stopped so as not to get in the way of the photo, but the photographer told her, “No, just keep going, you’re an Olympian!”

The women clapped and cheered. Delgado smiled, grabbed his golden key and headed to his car.